


The Prisoner

by SupernaturalMystery306



Series: The Prisoner [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Aluminium Bats, Blood and Gore, Death of Charlie Bradbury, Dubious stuff, Eldon/Female Character, Glitter Kink, M/M, Mentions Of M/F Sex, Mind fuckery, Older Eldon, Sad Ending, Semi-Public Sex, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships, Younger Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalMystery306/pseuds/SupernaturalMystery306
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back when he was sixteen, he never thought his life would take such a turn when he first walked into Maisie's Craft Store.</p><p> <br/><i>Alternatively titled as <span class="u">Maisie's Craft Store</span>.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Prisoner

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me for any continuation errors, grammatical errors, etc. :)  
> Do NOT get on my case about the tenses, please. I stupidly started writing it in past perfect and then realized how fucked up the whole fic got because of it.  
> This was written while I was crying thinking of Diggory, so this is naturally fucked up. (Honestly the boy didn’t deserve to die.)  
> This is, by the way, very shitty. And uselessly weird. Idk what I was writing, everything is jumbled up, chaotic, I’d say. XD So please read this at your own risk, because Idk why I wrote this.  
> Warning for absolutely cringe-worthy sex scenesssss.  
> **This is underage at one point, because Dean engages in oral sex while being 17. However, the rest of it is all consensual, and... overage? I guess. :P  
> **There is a six-year difference between Eldon and Dean, just so you know.
> 
> \---
> 
> So, SO IN LOVE WITH [REAPERLOVE'S](http://archiveofourown.org/users/reaperlove) ART FOR THIS OH MY GOD. Thank you so much for it! ♥

**_Introduction_ **

Dean remembered the first time he had seen the man. Eldon Styne had been an employee in Maisie’s Craft Store, and he had met him when he had gone to buy some supplies for Charlie’s school project. At the age of sixteen, Dean hadn’t known who the man was, or his name, he had only known him as the guy who worked the evening shift at the craft store. Eldon himself was a secretive person, and Dean had rarely—perhaps never—seen him in town. He was a total mystery, one that Dean wanted to figure out.

His sister had told him not to go there, saying something about creepy people, but of course Dean had decided to go check out the deal with the store. While he was sure she was pretty intuitive about certain things, he wanted to have some confirmation himself. It wasn’t just every day that Charlie would be scared of something. And she had only _passed_ by the place, she hadn’t even gone inside, and that too, only _once_. While some might have said that it meant she was too scared of the things awaiting them inside, Dean had doubted it. Charlie had begun to see that Gilda girl around that time, and surely she had just been a bit too in love to think properly. And Gilda was anyway an employee of another craft story. Perhaps she fed Charlie the idea that Maisie’s Craft Store was scary and employed shady people, even though Dean had got a nice vibe from her the few times they had talked.

When Dean had pushed open the door and walked into the store, Styne had been standing at the other end of the shop, but he had taken one look at Dean and had walked over and demanded what he was doing.

He had almost snorted and replied back with a sassy comment, but had stopped himself at the look in the man’s eyes. Those eyes screamed _destruction_ , in a very primitive sort of way, and while he was always up for challenges, at that moment Dean really didn’t want the man to unleash it. For some reason, it looked like if there was a fight between them, the man in front of him would come out as the winner. He had just induced the feeling of _unease_ in Dean, made him squirm in an almost unnoticeable manner. Styne was fucking disconcerting and scary.

“Uh,” He had said lamely, unable to say more because he was still scared, ready to take flight if push came to shove. He had experience with those sort of people—the ones who were similar to Styne in their build. And they often thought he was too young to take them down. While he was easily able to do so, he really preferred to walk away without a fight. If anyone knew about that side of him, they would laugh, but it was the truth. Dean Winchester had not been a fan of violence.

“Yes?” The man had prompted him.

Dean had told him what he wanted to buy, and the man had nodded before turning around and walking with brisk steps. He had returned after five minutes and dumped all the things on the counter, and raised an eyebrow. Dean had approached cautiously, before checking all the items off the list Charlie had handed him. Assured that he had received everything, he had paid and then hurried out of the shop, uncaring of how pathetic and weak it had made him look. He was smart, _dammit_ , and he wasn’t going to take risks. First impressions be damned.

**-x-**

**_One look_ **

The second time had been an accident. Dean had just got out of his school when he had seen a commotion. Some boys, having cornered an unfortunate soul, were tormenting said person. Dean had looked around, trying to see who the heck was getting their ass handed to them, but then someone had walked up to the throng of boys and easily hauled the leader- it looked like it was the leader- back and away from the victim. Dean had realized that it was Cyrus Styne, the thirteen year old nerdy freshman who had recently joined the school. Defending him was a tall blond, and he looked pretty agitated. Dean had suddenly spied motion out of the corner of his eye, and to his surprise, it was the employee from Maisie’s Craft Store. At that moment, he had also realized who the bully had been. As Cyrus’ defender’s fist connected with Benjamin Winston’s nose, the employee had nodded at Dean imperceptibly, and then smirked as he had moved to join the fray. A fight had broken out, and about fifteen minutes later, Benjamin Winston and his lackeys had run away with their tails between their legs. All sported some form of injury, whereas Cyrus Styne’s people were almost unharmed. The blond that Dean hadn’t seen before put his hand around Cyrus’ shoulder, and started steering him across the street and away from the school.

The employee had looked Dean in the eye, and said, “Do spineless people just _do_ something for you? Winnie looked like he could be taken down within seconds. And that’s just what happened. You can do better.” Finishing his declaration, he had followed his comrades.

Dean had flushed, and also paled at the same time, if that was possible. No one, _no one, not even Charlie_ , knew he was gay, and that he fancied Ben Winston. Then how did someone who he had only seen once before, know that he was that way? Was he really that obvious that someone could gather that much information from a look at him?

He had decided to take the long path to home, because he needed to think somewhere he didn’t feel restrained. Consequently, he had been late by thirty minutes. His mother had been concerned, but he had brushed if off as him having walked slowly. He had been in quite a turmoil that day.

If he had bothered to correlate the mystery man’s statement with his own personality, he would have realized that it was a peculiar observation, one that could not have been made within the span of five minutes.

 _Do spineless people just do something for you?_ Dean had had a history of liking delicate, fragile people. And while Benjamin was neither, he wasn’t as strong as he acted. He was kind of spineless, if Dean were being honest with himself.

 _You can do better._ And wasn’t that the most revealing statement?

**-x-**

**_Curiosity_ **

It had turned out that the blond who had defended Cyrus that day was his cousin Eli Styne, and also the cousin of the guy from the craft store. He only knew this because he had heard some girls talking about how the freshman’s cousin was “so, so hot” and that his name was “so cute and dreamy”. Dean failed to see how _anything_ about such a person could be dreamy, but he kept his opinions to himself. It would do nothing for him to participate in the girls’ gossip-slash-conversation.

He did gain some important knowledge from it, though. The employee, whose name continued to be a mystery, was Cyrus’ brother, unless they were second cousins.

He had gone to the store one day, in the afternoon, when he was sure the man wouldn’t be there. He had found an old man instead.

He had acted surprised, and asked what happened to the man who was always there. The old man hadn’t said anything. However, his eyes had widened slightly before his facial features returned to their impassive expression. He had just shrugged and said, “Oh, he comes only in the evenings.”

Dean had been a bit baffled as to why the man had looked like he recognized him, but he hadn’t said anything. Perhaps the guy had always been there, but Dean had been too busy obsessing over Styne to see him. But that was weird, because Dean wasn’t obsessed with him in the first place, because he hadn’t even cared about the man until the day when he saw him and Eli beat the boys up.

When Dean had prompted him further, he had said, “Kid, I’m busy, don’t you see? Now buy something or run along.”

Dean had bitten back his desire to retort, say that there was no one in the shop but Dean and he ought to answer him, seeing as his job was to help customers out. But he knew that that wouldn’t get him anywhere. It was the customers who usually got the short end of the stick, he had thought dryly. It was the way of the business. The shopkeepers were the one who cheated the buyers and blamed everything on that. Dean had learnt that in Economics class, when he had chosen to pay attention to what the teacher kept blabbing on about. So, he had decided to browse through some products and eventually left.

He knew that he could ask Cyrus who the guy was. They were brothers- the guy and Cyrus. But for some reason he was just apprehensive of asking. He wasn’t _shy_ , no, but he just did not want to let Cyrus Styne know that Dean knew his brother. What excuse would he have for his strange fascination with knowing the person’s name? He didn’t exactly have any excuse to know it. It was not as if he could just say “I want to know it because I want to know it” and be done with it.

**-x-**

**_Satiation_ **

Dean had found out his name when he was seventeen.

He had been in the shop for a legitimate reason- he actually had to buy some stationery, he was running out- when he had heard it.

High pitched gasps had reached his ears, and being a curious little shit, he had decided to investigate. He had stopped in his tracks when he had seen the employee, doing... _something_ to a chick that was sandwiched between him and the wall. In his defence, Dean hadn’t actually known those were sounds of pleasure, because the only sounds of pleasure he had heard were boys’. How was he to know that he would have ended up seeing a girl having- what the fuck had she been doing? Oh fuck, the guy- he was- he had been _fingering_ her. And she had clearly been enjoying it, because she had noticed Dean gaping, but had not said anything. If anything, her moans had got louder, almost beckoning Dean. The seventeen year old had been torn between disgust and fascination. On one hand, it had been actually kind of hot to think of himself in such a position, where he could have been seen by anyone walking by. On the other hand, he had been fucking repulsed. How could the girl actually continue letting the guy pleasure her even though there was someone standing in front of her? He was looking transfixed at the employee’s hand moving in and out, his arm muscles flexing, and as if his brain had suddenly felt a pull, his eyes had flown up to look at the man’s face.

He had been staring back at Dean.

When he knew Dean realized it, he had smirked. Dean was frozen. As if under a spell, he had been unable to tear his eyes away from the pair that was observing him. And then, suddenly, the spell—and the quiet that had settled over the place—had been broken. The girl had let out one last, particularly shrill sound before slumping.

Dean had visibly flinched, and a feeling of dread and annoyance had settled over him. He couldn’t explain it, but what had transpired had left him feeling... _alone_. And empty. He had suddenly felt ashamed, as if _he_ was the one committing such an act, as if he had been caught doing something bad. He just—he just had felt out of place.

Without a word, he had turned around and walked out.

He had forgotten all about his need for tape. He hadn’t even known when and how he reached home. He had only remembered one thing.

In the midst of all the noises the girl had been making, she had squealed out something crucial. _“Eld-du-uhn!”_

Dean was smart enough to understand it, unfortunately. She had said _Eldon_.

The man’s name was Eldon.

**-x-**

**_Seventeen_ **

Dean had been seventeen when he had given his first blowjob.

Eli had come to the school that day to pick Cyrus up, and Dean had again been standing near the gate. He would never admit it, but he had been waiting to see if the Stynes came that day. Seeing Cyrus waiting by the other gate instead of going home straight away, he had arrived at the conclusion that he was waiting for his cousin. He hadn’t been wrong. Eli Styne had pulled up in a car minutes after Dean had arrived at the entrance of the school. He had looked in Dean’s direction suddenly, and Dean had desperately tried to look away, but he had been unable to. The thing with the Stynes was that they just _commanded attention_. It was difficult to disobey or ignore them, and even from a distance Dean was helpless to Eli’s charm. The man had gestured to the car, and when Dean had remained where he was, Eli had walked closer to him.

“Are you gonna come with us or not?” He had asked—more like said—in his weird European accent.

Dean had chosen to just stare at him blankly, and he had sighed, before elaborating, “Will you come with us? Eldon wants to see you.”

Dean was not sure why Eldon wanted to see him, but he knew he shouldn’t just disregard it, so he had followed Cyrus and Eli to the car.

During the drive, Cyrus had tried to make small talk with him, and Dean had humored him. It wasn’t as if he was losing anything by talking to the fourteen year old. He had arrived to the conclusion that he could probably garner some information about Eldon and why he had wanted to see Dean.

On the topic of their accent, Cyrus had said, “We have hailed from Switzerland.” And Dean had thought, that was why Eldon enunciated his syllables in a certain way. It was pleasing to hear, although he had barely heard the man speak. Then he had berated himself, because how could he be having such thoughts about someone who he didn’t even know, and was senior to him by more than half a decade, according to Cyrus.

In the store, Eldon had taken him by the arm and dragged him off to a secluded corner, before saying, “I know you want me.”

Dean had raised an eyebrow at him, because he couldn’t even comprehend why Eldon would say such a thing, before realizing its importance. He had blushed, and denied it at first, but then Eldon had held his cheek in his warm hands, and for a moment, Dean had thought that all his fears were null and void. The man was twenty-three, and he certainly intimidated him. But despite his age and size, there was something about him which was just so _tender_ that Dean felt safe.

After a moment of kissing, Eldon had lightly pushed him downwards. He had stayed in place, wondering what to do, and Eldon had opened his jeans’ button and pulled them down his thighs. Dean had speculated for a moment that perhaps Eldon just liked the thrill of someone possibly walking in on them, since he had done it with the girl too, but then realized that he himself had liked the idea of it, and had pushed out any thoughts of the girl which had lingered in his brain.

Dean had moved forward, and tentatively licked at the member that had been revealed. He had done so for some time, and when he had looked up, Eldon hadn’t reacted, but his breathing had quickened, so he considered it a win.

And momentarily Dean had choked because Eldon had thrust forward. Sputtering, he had pulled off, wiping his mouth, but then Eldon had coaxed him back, this time going slowly.

Pretty soon, Eldon had started making noises. They were low, because he obviously didn’t want anyone to come looking, but they sent a direct signal to his brain, pleasing him as he shivered. Eldon had come down his throat, and Dean had been elated that he could do something like that, that he could provide something so intimate.

Afterwards, Eldon had not kissed him, but he had stroked his cheek again, and whispered to him to take care. Dean had been a bit annoyed, but then again, it wasn’t as if they were a _thing_ , so he couldn’t really demand affection like that, right? Like, he wasn’t supposed to... Right? Whatever.

Dean had left that day, not at all satisfied, but so, _so_ satisfied. He himself hadn’t been pleasured, but servicing Eldon was _more than enough_ for him. He didn’t know why he cared so much about the man, but he did.

And, he realized, he was fine with it.

(That was the day Dean had seen Eldon commit his first criminal act—Dean had been jailbait. And Eldon had known that. But back then, Dean had never taken it to be an offense. Why would he care anyway? He was so far gone over the man.)

**-x-**

**_First time_ **

The first time Eldon fucked Dean was when Charlie was in the other aisle, looking at some fancy sheets of paper, and Dean had been cornered by the man. He had shoved Dean against the shelf, and had proceeded to pull down his pants, rub his slick fingers against Dean’s hole and finger him, and all the while the younger man was trying to hold in his noises. And then he had entered him, right there with only the shelves to block the view from roaming eyes. Anybody could have walked by and seen them though, and that’s what made it so _scary_. If Dean was being completely honest, it was what made it _hot_.

And then Eldon had achieved completion, and Dean had followed, startled. He hadn’t even known when Eldon had put on a condom, but he had, and while his rear was perfectly fine, the front of his jeans had been damp with his release.

Somehow, some of the plastic containers containing glitter had been disturbed, and one of them had rolled over and fallen down, bathing Dean in a layer of magenta glitter. And for a moment, Dean had seen a rare smile flitting across Eldon’s face, before the man had grunted, and motioned him to go clean up in the bathroom in the back of the shop.

He had later walked around the corner and asked Charlie if they could leave. And they had left, Dean wearing his jacket around his waist to hide the evidence of their shenanigans.

**-x-**

**_Gratification_ **

In his last year of school, Dean had received an anonymous note in his locker one day. It had said, “Basement.” Just that. There had been nothing indicating who it was from, who it was meant for. Nothing at all.

But Dean had felt like he knew the handwriting. And of course he had, having seen it so many times in Cyrus’ notes.

The boy hung out with him sometimes—or rather, _he_ hung out with the boy—during lunch time, and they usually spent time sitting in each other’s company, silently working on whatever task they had.

Cyrus would often be sitting with his homework, and there were always little sentences here and there in the margins. Dean had asked him once why they were there, and Cyrus had replied, “Eli helps me with homework.”

So it had been Eli Styne’s handwriting. Why and how he had slipped the note into Dean’s locker was beyond his understanding, but he guessed it had something to do with Eldon.

After all, Eldon was the only reason why the Stynes tolerated him.

One time, Dean had gone to the store under pretence of buying his own stationery, and had seen various people sitting with Eldon around a table. When he had walked inside, a hush had fallen; all conversation had ceased. He had tried not to pay attention to it as he had gone over to a shelf and began going through the different kinds of pens. He hadn’t even known what the heck he had to buy.

Dean had shuddered when he had felt everyone’s eyes on him. The hairs on his neck had risen, because it was terrifying to be in the vicinity of potential gangsters.

 _He knew the Stynes were not to be taken lightly._ They were a fucking gang, except they had exclusive membership, that is, it was exclusively their family members. Taking them as a joke was not something Dean wanted to do. He did not want to cross any of their paths.

They were doctors. Or doctor-scientists, Eldon had said. Something like that. He didn’t know how true that statement actually was, since the man had been vague, but he didn’t see any reason to not believe it.

The Stynes were weird super-strong scientists? Okay. Cool. Swell. Whatever.

He knew Eldon didn’t tell him the full story, but he did tell him what he thought was “good enough.”

Dean didn’t really care. He still thought that Charlie was right about all of them being scary—except maybe Eldon. And he was fine with knowing whatever they let him know. The less he knew, the better it was, right?

So he had gone with Cyrus to wherever the Stynes always were. Eli drove the car to some weird place every time, and Dean never dared to question him. Cyrus had chatted his ear off about something “interesting” and “funny” and “awesome” that had happened, but Dean had mostly ignored him.

Last time Eli had told him that Eldon had called him, but this time he hadn’t even told Dean anything. He just drove in silence, and when they reached their destination—some sort of a warehouse in a corner near a bridge—, Dean was just sent through the door and the tunnel behind it. He had felt Eli’s presence behind him, and had almost asked him where he was being taken, before the tunnel had opened up into a cavernous room. People had been milling about, and they had barely spared him a glance before turning back to their work.

There were glass containers of all kinds, kind of like the beakers found in labs, and there was medical equipment hooked everywhere. Perhaps they really were scientists, and Eldon had been telling the truth.

And there had been a door exactly opposite to the one he had been standing in front of, and it had opened to let Eldon in. He had locked eyes with him, and gestured behind himself. Dean had followed him and they had reached a faraway room. It was kind of dark, and Dean couldn’t see much. So when he had stumbled, he had been half expecting to fall, but had been caught by Eldon in a totally clichéd manner. The older man had ruffled his hair. At least that was what it had seemed like, but when Dean had ran a hand through it, his hand had come back sticky and shiny and purple.

He had turned to Eldon and raised an eyebrow. He had got a gleeful smirk in return.

And then the other man had fisted a hand in Dean’s shirt, and pulled him into a kiss. It was wild, not at all sweet like the other times, and Dean honestly _loved it so much_.

Eldon had backed him up against the wall, and as Dean had looped his legs around his waist, Eldon had hurriedly opened their pants, while they grinded like horny teenagers.

_(Dean was one, but Eldon wasn’t supposed to act like that. That meant Dean was special, right?)_

Eldon was obsessed with his ass, Dean had realized early on, and as he groped him, squeezing it, Dean had moaned loud enough for everyone to hear.

And then they had indulged in sex, right there in the room.

Later on, as they were basking in the post orgasmic glory, and Dean was trying to wipe off the glitter that had gone _everywhere_ , somehow, Eldon had whispered to him, “See the door up the stairs? That’s to the store. You can come here whenever you want, no one will stop you.”

Dean had been touched at the offer, and as they both embraced each other, he thought of how Eldon was one of the nicest people he had ever met.

**-x-**

**_Charlie_ **

It was when Dean had gone down to the basement for the second time that he realized it was all a lie.

He had been looking for Eldon, and had found Cyrus in the store. The younger boy had eagerly provided him the whereabouts of his brother, telling him to check in the basement.

Dean had gone down, and come face to face with his sister lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her open eyes staring listlessly at the ceiling, forever frozen.

He stumbled, and fell to his knees. She looked like she had the last time he had seen her, but there was blood. Lots of it.

The image would be burned into his memory, bound to haunt him for ages.

_Dean cared a lot about his sister. If Eldon was being completely honest, he didn’t know what was so special about the girl._

_And he wasn’t just saying this based on a one-time meeting or something. (Although they had never even “met”, formally.) He had formed that opinion after thorough research and observation._

_Yes, he had known of Charlene Bradbury long before he had met Dean. He knew about her girlfriend, Gilda, and how she had warned Charlie not to go to Maisie’s. He knew how Bradbury had come to the shop the first few times before becoming suspicious of him. She was smart, he knew that, because she was right in being terrified of him. He was not someone to be taken lightly, trifled with._

_He had been surprised when he had first found out that Dean trusted him. It was stupid, in his opinion. At least, that’s what he had felt at first. He had been taught to never trust anyone. Finding out that Dean thought he was harmless was a hilarious thought at first. He had even toyed with the idea of killing him. But, slowly and slowly, the boy had wormed his way into his heart, and Eldon had got used to him. He had become **fond** of him._

_And he knew that if Dean found out what he was about to do, he would hate him._

_But it didn’t excuse the fact that Charlene Bradbury needed to be dealt with and finished off. He had been ordered to get rid of her. He couldn’t ignore the command._

_Most of all, deep down, he knew that he was doing it for **Dean**. The boy didn’t know it, but he would **never** be able to flourish as long as she was present in his life. He just wouldn’t be able to channel his energy and be productive, the way God intended._

_She was pathetic, meant to be wiped off from the earth._

**_She was dirt._ **

_And Eldon was nothing—if not **practical**._

_..._

_He waited, scuffing the ground with his boots every now and then. What was taking her so long? He had impersonated her girlfriend and written a message to her, that Eli was supposed to have delivered. He hoped that his cousin hadn’t messed anything up._

_His head turned to the side as he heard a voice call out, “Gilda?”_

_He decided to step out of the shadows, and smirked as he caught the way her face paled._

_“Hello, Charlene.”_

_“Styne.”_

_He nodded slightly, impressed that she knew enough about him already._

_“Now, you know what this is for, right?” and with that, he dug out what had been in his coat pocket all along._

_A knife._

_And oh, she **definitely** understood what it was for. Her fear was absolutely **delicious**._

_He took a few steps, bridging some of the distance between them, and she took the same amount of steps, backing away._

_“Let’s cut to the chase,” he said, and looked for the other weapon out of the corner of his eye. Yes, it was near her. He only needed to take about seven steps around her before getting to it. She obviously hadn’t even realized that it was there. “You and I both know how this is going to end. You and I both know **what** is going to end— **who** is going to end. Yes, yes,” he said as she shut her eyes briefly before opening them again, “you know who.”_

_As he walked even closer, she spun around, following his path with her eyes._

_He chuckled lightly. Honestly, this cat-and-mouse game was getting ridiculous, what with her thinking that she could get out of it alive. Every damn time he had tried to off her, she had escaped somehow. This time, he wouldn’t miss._

_He **couldn’t**._

_He came to stand in front of the bat—the other weapon—shielding it from her eyes. He ran the tip of his finger over the blunt edge of the knife, and flashed it at her, grinning. She looked terrified, her eyes wide with fear._

_“You know that even if you kill me nothing will happen, right? You’ll get caught. Dean will know. He—he’ll—he’ll tell the police—they’ll know—”_

_He chuckled, the sound a dark presence of its own, “You overestimate your brother. He won’t know it.”_

_No, he would. Dean was smart too, if a little gullible. But the thing was, even if he knew Eldon had murdered his sister, he would be swayed to shut his mouth. But he needed to lie to the girl._

_“And even if it does, you know that he won’t care.”_

_She shook her head, her hair flipping wildly, both from the motion and the wind. “He will. He loves me. I’m his sister. Not some guy he fucks for a pastime.”_

_“Oh, but that’s where you’re going wrong, honey. One: I’m not just some guy he fucks for a pastime. He is gone over me. On a side note, I’m the one who does the fucking. Two: think again. Are you really sure that he loves you? Three: okay, yes, maybe he does. **But** , the question here is: does he or does he not love me too?” he said, and waited for the meaning to completely sink down into her brain. _

_“You know he does. He **does**. And honey, unfortunately for you, you’re not as important to him as I am. Why else would he have continued to see me if you had told him from the beginning that I was bad news?”_

_Her eyes flashed for a moment, and by then, he had decided that sufficient verbal blows had been delivered. Except for the last one—“He loves me **more**. And he wouldn’t give two shits about you. He wouldn’t. Not after you replaced him with **Gilda**.”_

_Until then, she hadn’t looked like she believed him, but at those words, she swayed, and stumbled._

_She opened her mouth to shout out something, but she never could, as at that moment, Eldon had brought down the aluminium bat upon her._

_..._

_He stepped back and looked at his handiwork. The bat had bashed in the right side of her face, and it was lolled against her chest, painting her shirt a gruesome red.  Her limbs were in awkward positions, meaning her bones had snapped well. All in all, it was satisfying._

_He got the inexplicable urge to lick the bat, taste the bitch’s blood. So he did._

_And set about making calls for her body to be transported._

Someone came down the stairs, and gasped. Dean was able to recognize it as Cyrus.

“Dean? _Dean?!_ What the _fuck happened?!_ ” As the boy continued to make more exclamations, Dean paid him no attention. It was as if he was comatose. He was completely unresponsive. He heard Cyrus, but he didn’t really hear what he was saying.

His eyes moved up to meet the younger boy’s, and the words died on the Styne’s tongue.

It took great effort, but Dean pointed his index finger at the door Cyrus had come from. He pointed repeatedly at it till the boy got the meaning. Saying, “I hate them,” one last time, Cyrus walked away.

Dean looked back at his sister. There was a knife next to her. Dean crawled forward, and pocketed it.

**-x-**

**_Cyrus_ **

Dean looked out of the alley, waiting patiently. He wasn’t going to mess it up just because he was too eager. At length, he heard footsteps nearing. He smiled slightly. The sound of the gait was familiar, he had studied it extensively.

He fingered the blade in his hand, and patted the one in his jacket’s sleeve.

As the person made to walk by the alley, Dean thrust a hand out and blocked the way. Yanking the person closer to him and into the alley, he smiled as the person struggled for a moment before stilling.

“Dean?” The boy asked, and Dean nodded. “Oh thank god, I thought you were some mugger or a murderer. I got so scared.”

Dean’s lips twisted up into a wretched grin, and he replied, “Oh, you thought right. ...Sort of. I mean, I am neither a murderer nor a mugger. But, eh, I’m an avenger alright.”

“Avenger?”

“Oh yes, avenger. Don’t you know, your family killed my sister?”

“Dean, you _know_ I hate them for it! Why are you still associating me with them? I don’t want to have anything to do with them. And you know that. Right?”

Dean sighed. The boy was just stupid. A fucking retard, is what he was. It wouldn’t matter if he liked or hated them. _It was in his blood_. And Dean was out for blood.

And maybe, _maybe_ , he knew that the boy was innocent, but who fucking cared? _Charlie_ was innocent. Charlie didn’t _deserve_ to die, and this boy sure as heck didn’t deserve to live.

 I am only going to avenge her death right now.” Dean paused, and then continued as his captive’s face paled, “Yep, that’s right, you get to be the scapegoat, the tradepiece for Charlie.” It pained him to say her name, but he needed to drive the point home.

Now the boy really started shaking, “Dean—no. _No_. You know I had nothing to do with it. You _know_ it was just Eli and dad and El- Oh my god, _Dean_ , you can’t do thi— _Dea—mmphhh—_ ” His sentence was abruptly cut off as Dean slapped a hand against his mouth.

“One more word from you, sweetie, and I cut off your tongue. And don’t think I won’t do it.”

Satisfied that his threat was understood, Dean removed his hand and switched the blade in his left hand to his newly freed right one.

Lightly dragging the blunt edge of it across the boy’s skin, he was happy to see him wince and shiver.

Then, without warning, he twisted the blade. A squeal erupted from the victim’s mouth, and Dean watched hungrily as a tiny trickle of blood went down his cheek, slipping down his throat.

Dean smiled ever so slightly. This was a duty, a tribute to Charlie, he was bound to do this, but damn if he wasn’t enjoying it.

“Dean—please—plea—”

He dug the knife harder into the boy’s cheek, and growled, “I _told_ you to shut your bloody mouth.”

“Plea—”

In a second, the boy had a gash on his forehead from a rock that Dean had picked up from the ground.

Staring into his victim’s eyes, the Winchester smirked. He wasn’t Dean Winchester, the scared and hurt boy anymore. He was Dean Winchester, the avenger.

And he was going to avenge Charlie’s death. His sister didn’t fucking _deserve_ it.

He was taken back to how, about two years ago, he had first seen Eldon. The man had seemed so _weird_. That day, Dean had vowed not to go back to the shop.

Yes, he had initially thought Charlie was wrong to be scared, that she was just overreacting about a seemingly creepy employee, but he had agreed with her belief after that encounter.

And then Eldon had turned up in his school.

He hadn’t even known who Cyrus Styne was. Well, he just knew that he was a freshman kid who got bullied because, well, he was bullying material. And he had been seeing Ben Winston harass the kid and had been contemplating leaving quietly, but then Eli Styne had arrived on the scene. And right behind him was _the employee from Maisie’s Craft Store_.

And Dean, being the naturally curious person that he was, had obsessed over him for _days_ , trying to figure out his name. He had started going regularly to the craft store, asking people about him.

He had got the name when he had seen Eldon with the girl, but then a new problem had presented itself. Dean wanted the man. He wanted him _bad_. And so he had continued pining over him till he had got him.

And then, the day Eldon had first fucked him, he had forced Charlie to come to Maisie’s, instead of going to the place where Gilda worked. His excuse had been that Gilda’s place was all the way at the other end of the town. Charlie had been royally pissed at him, but at that reasoning, she had slumped and agreed.

And that was probably when Eldon had found out about her. _Because of Dean._

 ** _He had to make things right_**. Even if it was the wrong way to go about it.

...

And that was how Cyrus Styne was murdered at the hands of Dean Winchester, someone he considered a friend, someone who loved his brother, and—most importantly—someone he had always loved. He lost his heart to him in more ways than one.

**-x-**

**_Twenty one_ **

Dean stood quietly, taking in his surroundings. It had been three years since Charlie’s death. By now, he had just accepted it as an event of the past and moved on. Some nights, he woke up drenched in sweat, Charlie’s shrieks still in his ears. Those were the nights he felt something other than what he felt every day, that is, nothing. The nights he was haunted by Charlie, he was left awake till the early hours of the new day, thinking non-stop about _everything_. It was times like those when he felt a little _spark_ in himself, a fire, telling him to leave everything. Telling him to just leave the town, go someplace far away, where there were no ghosts to torment him.

But he knew of a way to cure those helpless thoughts. _Alcohol_.

This was his life now, right here in Shreveport, and whether or not he liked it, he couldn’t just abandon everything and leave. He was strong, fucking hell, he was strong enough to handle whatever came his way.

(But the tiniest part of him, the one that was still the part that cared for his sister, knew that he was irreparably broken. He would never be the same as he had been back when he had been sixteen—a hopeful boy, with dreams, with _anything_ other than the bleak sense of uselessness that had settled in him. He had become fucked up, all because of Eldon Styne.)

He was strong enough that he could kill someone at the age of nineteen. Two years, Dean had killed Cyrus Styne. But it’s not like anyone knew, right? At least, no one ever confronted him about it. And even if someone did know, most probably no one had cared. Dean was pretty sure that no one knew.

Cyrus was the black sheep of the Styne family. Aside from Eli, nobody would care. Dean suspected that even Eldon wouldn’t care, even though he was close to Eli. Perhaps the day that Dean had seen Eldon for the second time in his young life, Eldon had only beaten up Benjamin Winston because Eli had wanted him to.

Dean had derived some immeasurable, and incomparable, pleasure from spilling Cyrus’ blood. But deep down, he knew that it never did anything to make the pain of Charlie’s murder less. He had just become fucked up, and he had killed someone to make himself numb. To make himself _stop feeling_.

As for the craft store, he knew that the place itself was not infested with evil. It was only during the night shift that the Stynes thrived, when they decided to go their crazy-and-illegal business. No civilian even knew of the basement, which was the headquarters of the gang. Maisie Bell, the owner of the shop hadn’t even known what had gone on in her shop all those years.

And as Dean waited patiently for the pedestrian’s light to turn green, he was sure of one thing. He would keep going to the craft store. Forever, even though it was wrong to the ideal (barely there) part of him. He would never stop.

He just couldn’t.

**-x-**

**_The Prisoner, Released at last_ **

And so, Dean Winchester continued to visit Maisie’s Craft Store. He continued to do so even when he was in his forties, fifties, and so on, although Eldon had long since gone, with the basement only a forgotten memory, later converted into a storage place. He had become a prisoner of the store’s appeal, its secret. A prisoner of all the memories made in the years he had known Eldon, from when he was a naive sixteen year old to when he had been in his late twenties—sometime around the time the Stynes had vanished from the place. He never married, choosing to immerse himself in his job as a doctor of all occupations (the irony was not lost on him), and forget human touch. He became reserved, although not antisocial. Those townspeople that had known him since his childhood didn’t bother him; they felt that he had been affected heavily by his younger sister’s death all those years ago. Oh, if they only knew. It had twisted him, and as he had grown older, wiser, he had come to accept the fact.

And it was this acceptation of the demons inside him, which got him salvation at last. He knew that he no longer had any work to finish, any loose ends to tie.

And that is how, on a cold night in February 2042, Maisie Blake’s granddaughter Sarah found Dr. Winchester with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head, laying in a pool of blood soaking into the craft store’s wooden floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the April SPN Coldest Hits Challenge. Prompt: Guilty Pleasures in a Craft Store.  
> This does have one scene of crack: Gratification. :P I know I messed this up. It’s because I accidently deleted a part of this fic and didn’t know how to keep the flow going. Let’s see that as my attempt to make this crack??  
> I am bad at writing torture scenes, I don’t even like to read them, but I hope this turned out fine. As for using these characters and Charlie’s death as the theme, I’m sorry if anyone hates me. :( But being the first to write this pairing was surprisingly weird yet fun. :D  
> I got bored so I decided to cut out a 500 words. It was probably more mind fuckery because I’m just classy like that. It would have been called “Gaslight” and Eldon would have got Dean to believe that he was better off without Charlie and all that crap. And even if Dean loved her, he would still have believed it because _bitch **Eldon** said so_ and all that crap.  
>  Y’all can let me know if you liked/hated it on my [Tumblr](http://fancythingsandgossamerwings.tumblr.com).  
> Thanks for reading!! ♥


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